


How Harry Became Fran

by Starchains



Series: Beginnings and Becomings [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starchains/pseuds/Starchains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in the wilderness isn't much of a step up from the zoo. And I think that the pineapple fairy might be a pervert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Harry Became Fran

When I was a child, I live in a zoo with a horse, a walrus and a pig. They left me alone in my cupboard a lot, so I changed it to look more interesting. They said it was freakish. I told them that being talking animals was a lot more freakish than a knack for redecorating, and their faces turned interesting colours. It didn't really help. Their faces were hideous, and their voices were annoying when they were shouting at me, so I gave them faces that were more appealing and removed their ability to speak all at once. I thought it was genius, but they weren't pleased. Apparently having their heads replaced with fruit upset them. Who knew?

Soon after that they sent me to live with my Grandmother in France. Or at least, I was told it was France. She spoke Japanese, and we lived in the middle of nowhere, so it could have been anywhere really. She was pretty awful at child raising, I didn't even go to school. Grandmother was almost as useless a guardian as the animals had been, and her cooking was worse than the horse's. Still, at least she was human, and didn't actively hate me, so it was a step up. She insisted on calling me Fran, because her dead son had been called Francois, and I looked so much like him, and blah blah blah. I tuned her out when she started reminiscing, but I went with the new name; Fran was a nicer name than Harry anyway.

Grandmother didn't even notice when I changed my hair. Maybe she couldn't tell, because her eyesight was awful. Tricking someone by switching the salt and suger is much less fun when they make the mistake by themselves anyway. Black was such boring haircolour. I changed it to green so that I could blend in with the trees, and straightened it as well so it wasn't as much trouble to look after. Of course, I could have done that before, but it would have pleased the horse, which would have violated my moral code. Plus, the green matched my eyes. I liked my eyes, so I added little triangles underneath them to draw attention to them. All the beauty of makeup, without having to waste time. Take that, fashion industry.

At least Grandmother didn't try to control what I did. She just packed me a lunch and sent me off to explore. I think she was trying to poison me, and hoped that I would die in the wilderness before anyone could find me. That would suck. After a few days exploring, I made myself a giant hat so that birds wouldn't mistake my green hair for a tree and try to nest in it. I decided it should look like an apple. Unlike the Walrus and the Pig, I appreciated my fruit and vegetables. At least Grandmother couldn't poison them.

One day, I woke up after a very strange dream. I was part of a criminal organisation. I suppose it made sense; with my Grandmother's complete lack of interest in my education, I probably wasn't going to be able to get a legal job. There was a man with the most dreadful hair, who I called Master. I had read about that kind of thing in Grandmother's top-shelf books, and I didn't think it sounded fun. There was also a fake-prince with even more awful hair who threw knives at me. Clearly, my brain was telling me that I was doomed to be trapped in an abusive relationship, and I needed to avoid running off with strangers, especially those with weird hair. Seriously, there was a blond with hair down to his ass. Did we pick up a model somewhere in between the fighting and the prison breaks? Speaking of prison breaks; even if dream-me was a criminal, he seemed to be an awesome one. I would practice my villain laugh, but the fake-prince seemed to have that covered.

I had almost forgotten the dream when the crazy people turned up in real life. There was the blond model who shouted a lot, and the fake-prince with the big grin and too many teeth. He didn't seem human. Maybe he was some kind of fungus that gave people cavities? It would explain the teeth. And the lack of eyes. The creepy one dream-me called 'Master' looked like a pineapple. Maybe we bonded over our love of fruit? He also looked kind of like a fairy, with his girly face and creepy eyes. Dream-me had known him, but I had never met him - I would remember someone so strange looking. But he insisted that I already knew him, and that I should call him Master, so clearly he was some kind of pervert. I only had one option.

My pineapple fairy exorcism dance didn't work. The pervert pineapple fairy tried to kill me, and the cavity fungus tried to stab me with his interesting knives. They needed to work on their people skills. Maybe they just weren't very bright; after all, they actually believed me when I said that I lost my memories by being hit with cheese. Grandmother was the one who was useless in the kitchen, not me. I just chose not to help. Now, instead of arguing over who got to keep me - like I was some kind of pet! I didn't see why, they already had the fangy one with the speech impediment for that - they both wanted to get rid of me. Apparently, the dream was actually memories of the future, however that worked. And 'Master' rented me out to the shouty model and the cavity fungus. I thought the fairy couldn't get any creepier; all he needed to do now was offer me sweets in his attempt to lure me away from home. I was amazed the model was daring to argue with such a creepy fairy. It was impressive that he had any self-esteem at all with such girly hair; his loudness was clearly a cover for his insecurity.

I tried to back away while they were arguing, and then when they were distracted by the pink-haired girl. I thought I had managed to escape while they were fighting and they would leave me alone, but no, they stopped my cunning plan. It seemed as though the shouty blond was winning, and by the way the cavity fungus was ginning, I could tell that going with him would shorten my life expectancy. So, with a sigh, I chose the pineapple fairy and said a sad goodbye to my precious innocence.


End file.
